Tales from the Institute Pt. 1

Welcome to my blog.
I don't need another website to manage--I can barely keep up with facebook and deviantart. And I don't even like the internet. Really. I hate wasting time on the internet; and yet here I am. Brilliant.
It's not like I need practice writing--I write enough as it is, and it's not as if I need someone's approval or their affirmation. Maybe I'm attention deprived.
It's more likely that I'm bored. This room is freezing. It's always freezing here. Except in the summer, when the AC stops working and the heat suddenly kicks in. It's impossible to sleep when it's so cold, so I surf the net. I should be paying attention, but I can't. So I surf the net. And I wind up making new accounts for sites like this one, looking at the clock and sighing, wishing 11:30 would come.
An hour and a half left. God, it feels like forever. But I think this place has changed my perception of time... I'm not sure how. I guess when you sit for four hours at a time, in one place, day after day, hours don't feel the same. They become minutes instead. Then the waiting is easier, the day is too short, and life itself seems like it's moving too quickly.
I've been here for almost two years now--two years in August--and I can't decide if I love it or hate it. I suppose I love parts of it. And they can help me. Still, it's so much money, and half the time I wind up not feeling good enough.
Regardless, in less than two years, I'll be leaving this place. Out into the proverbial "real world."
I'm not sure what the real world is anymore. My whole life people have been talking about the real world, but no one's clear about when it begins. I used to think that after I graduated high school I'd be in the real world. Or when I got a job. I've done both now, and still people tell me I have yet to get into the real world.
If this world is not real, then what is it?